Nobody Ends Up Dead in a Bathtub, Everyone Keeps Their Organs

Chapter 2

Leo was leaning into the hallway from the couch, his body halfway hanging off to look around the corner. The overhead light reflected off his large eyes and the living room was dark behind him, making him look like a deer standing in the glare of headlights.

Damián locked the door behind him and stuck his boots by the door. He laid them between his other pairs (he could not be blamed for owning so many shoes) and Leo's one pair of high-top Converse which had seen better days. The black canvas had begun to fade. The laces were stained. The rubber along the soles were rubbed down unevenly and were smudged with little parts of the city. Grass, mud, Damián was sure he saw dried cement. Maybe Damián would buy him new shoes for Christmas if Leo was willing to part with them. Something more appropriate for cold weather.

"I was getting worried," Leo said.

"I'm sorry. I lost track of time."

"Did everything go okay?"

"Yeah! It was all fine." Damián walked down their short hallway. Leo already had a documentary pulled up on the TV and popcorn sitting on the beaten-up coffee table. "Aw, you got everything ready."

"The popcorn might be a little soggy."

"That's fine. Just let me change real quick."

Leo fell back into the sofa and watched Damián cross the apartment to his bedroom.

Damián pulled off his outfit, breathing well again outside of his tight jeans, and gently laid it all in the hamper. He rubbed the indents from his waistband on his stomach, examining them in his mirror. The side seam had imprinted itself onto his right thigh. While it wasn't unusual for his work clothes to be so tight that they left little marks on his body, he preferred them not leave almost-painful divets in him.

Deep down, from his years of psychology classes, he knew that his perception of himself in the mirror couldn't be trusted. Still, tightening jeans didn't lie. He had gained a little weight.

Another thing to start worrying about.

Fuck.

He didn't have the space in his head to worry about his weight. He already had too many things swimming around up there. There was Leo, new clients, one new client in particular. There wasn't enough room, but in just a few minutes, his weight had again made itself at home in his head. It weighed heavily on his chest and knotted his stomach up, pushing his other problems to the side.

It had been so long since he had felt that specific anxiety. But it was so familiar that it felt like an old friend, settling back into his life. After being apart for so long, Damián couldn't turn it away. Not when they knew each other so well.

Damián would start cutting back on all the take out meals he had with Leo. He had to find some balance between that and the recent spike in fancy dinners with the extra clients he had picked up. Dieting was always a slippery slope—no. He could make it healthy this time. It wouldn't be like his last attempt at dieting where he passed out in the apartment's gym and woke up to his neighbor standing over him.

It wouldn't even be a diet. It's just be mindful eating. Moderation. He had learned his lesson.

He pulled on his sweatpants and a SUNY t-shirt he had bought when Leo was accepted four years ago. He looked at himself in the mirror again. With baggy clothes, he looked slightly slimmer. It hid the little bit of developing pudge.

"Was everything really okay?" Leo asked.

"Yeah." Damián flopped onto the couch next to him. He crossed his arms over his stomach. "It was different."

"Different in a good way?"

"In a good way." Damián gestured to the TV. "You can start it."

Leo pressed play on the remote and pulled the popcorn onto the couch between them. Damián took a handful, found one butter-less piece and dumped the rest back into the bowl.